His One
by Miss Toughie
Summary: Randy Orton and Dean Ambrose are very similar individuals, two men that nobody expects to see together, including themselves. But a chance meeting late one night led them both to realize how much they could have with each other, if either of them decides to take the chance on the other.
1. Chapter 1

He was starting to get that feeling again, the uneasiness in him growing into something he could no longer ignore. It was even forcing him to acknowledge how much of a creeper he was really being. He was seriously on the verge of becoming a stalker. And he didn't like it. He was Randy Orton for Christ's sake. Women _and _men flocked to him in the desperate hope of being the one who shared his bed, even if it was only for one night. Back when he was first starting out, when the partying and fame had gone to his head, he would have been jumping at all those chances being flung his way. Okay, if he was honest with himself then he would admit that it wasn't all that long ago that he had actually stopped doing those things. And something in the back of his head, probably the same thing that was holding him back from admitting his feelings, told him that all those things wouldn't vote in his favor if he were to ever try to actually be with the man he couldn't stop staring at.

He shook his head as he reminded himself that none of that mattered, he had no plans to say anything and he had accepted that he would never actually be with the guy. Suddenly those subtle blue eyes locked onto his across the room and he was frozen. He knew his face was giving away none of the turmoil that was existing inside of his head. He had worked too hard to make his outer shell void of emotion for too many years. Keeping a stronghold on all his emotions and features, he gave a small head nod in the younger man's direction before turning and leaving the room.

He didn't allow himself to take a truly deep breath again until he was safely tucked away in his private locker room. Alone. Like he seemed to be a lot of the time anymore. It just seemed to be easier.

* * *

"Saw you staring at Ambrose over in catering. How's that going for you?"

Randy glanced out of the corner of his eye at his long standing friend as he walked uninvited into the room. It wouldn't do him any good to point that fact out, he'd learned that many years ago. He also wasn't stupid enough to give too much attention to the man, it always ended up being fuel for the fire. So instead he continued wrapping his wrists and gave a soft sigh.

"Shut it Cena."

"Sooooo, not good?"

"Cena, I'm warning you."

A loud laugh was all he got in return. "Look, you're the one who decided it would be a good idea to fall for, quite possibly, the most unreachable guy in your world right now." Randy knew it had been a mistake to mention his attraction to the younger man, but he had gotten drunk with his friend one night and he'd been tired of keeping that secret bottled up. So he'd told Cena everything and he started regretting it instantly, because conversations like this one weren't uncommon between them anymore.

"I know we've talked about this, but I just don't think you've thought this all through. I'm mean, do you even know if he's seeing someone already?"

Randy's actions slowed as he considered that last question. "I mean, I don't think he is, have you heard…?" Randy heard his voice trail off as new worries joined the already overwhelming ones circling his brain. _Great, now he had another reason to avoid the man all together. _"Jesus, why didn't I think about that?"

Another glance to his left showed a look of concern on his friend's face. After a stretch of silence that almost overwhelmed Randy, John expelled a long breath before joining him on the bench running along the wall of lockers.

"I don't know what to tell you man. Ambrose is… well he's… hell, I don't know, he's Ambrose. I can't even figure out how or why you fell for him in the first place. I get that you want him, but I just don't understand how you could ever get him."

Randy narrowed his eyes and gave the best glare that he could muster, considering the way he was feeling. "Yeah, I know you don't want to hear that, but I mean, the guy isn't really that reachable, you know what I mean?"

"Didn't everyone say the same thing about Punk before you got him?" Randy retorted.

"Well yeah, but I'm John Cena, things are different for me." How the man managed to say it with a straight face, Randy just couldn't understand.

"Right, I'll have to remember that."

* * *

Sitting on a case in the hallway, headphones in, trying his best to block out the rest of the world, Dean realized that _he_ was doing it again. Sure, he was one of the new guys, but that wasn't a reason for any of the veterans to glare at him from across the room. Hell, they weren't even in a storyline together anymore, so that couldn't be the reason either. Granted when they had been working together, he might have taken it too far a time or two, but that was just what management wanted from him, and he may be a rookie, but he had been in the outskirts of this business long enough that he knew better than to go against the script. And it drove him crazy.

Well, as much as he knew that _should _be the reason that stare bothered him so much, he just couldn't make himself completely believe that. What truly bothered him so much about the whole situation is what that set of piercing blue eyes did to him every time he felt them on him. A sick and twisted part of him lived for that tingle that shot down his spine at the mere idea of Randy Orton staring at him.

But none of that mattered, he needed to remember that. The man was already everything he wasn't supposed to want. Too much like himself for them to ever actually get along. He constantly told himself that, over and over again, but when that deep voice rumbled out a laugh, or drew his attention in any way, Dean knew he wasn't going to stop wanting the man anytime soon.

And damn, did he want him.

Everything about that man called to something deep inside of him. The dark tan that would look ridiculous on anybody else and the deep timbre of his voice that made his heart stutter with every word. He loved watching him walk, his long legs and arms causing him to have a swagger in his every step. But his favorite thing about the man was probably the thing he saw the least of, his smile. Not the smirk that he showed the entire world, but his genuine smile. Just thinking about it caused a small smile to cross his own features. There was nothing about that smile of his that could be considered perfect, hell it was closer to weird looking than anything, but it was real, and Dean couldn't get enough of that rare sight.

And that was one of the reasons Dean hated the thought of Randy glaring at him countless times because of how weak he was. Because of how weak he had once seen Dean being with his own eyes.

What he had been thinking that night was anyone's guess. He had been stuck in a moment of misery, feeling sorry for himself, when that striking man had walked up to him on that deserted stretch of the river bank. He'd given away too much of himself in that short conversation they had shared. He hadn't even realized how close he had come to pathetic until Orton had invited him back to his hotel room. He'd heard stories about stuff like that, guys making their way to the top by sleeping with some of the bigger names, but that wasn't something Dean was interested in doing. Granted, he was more than ready for whatever the older man was offering, but he just couldn't. He couldn't be one of those guys who didn't make it in this business on his own.

Although, he acknowledged, all those rumors he heard about such things never implied that Randy was a part of any of it, and his offer hadn't come across like that was the situation either. Dean had honestly hoped that he had read the whole situation wrong and Randy would try to hang out with him again sometime, but as the days turned into weeks, it became apparent that wasn't going to happen. So, he had to accept that he had either read the situation right the first time, or he had misplayed the whole thing and left himself with nothing. He wasn't sure which scenario was worst.

Shaking his head and pushing those depressing thoughts out of his mind, Dean raised his eyes up enough that his gaze locked on the wall in front of him. An image of the older man filled his vision until Dean could swear he was standing right in front of him, and as much as he fought it, he couldn't seem to keep a smile off of his own face. Thoughts of Orton always did that to him, the positive ones anyway. That's why he couldn't convince himself to just give up on the whole thing.

"What are you over here smiling about?" Ryan asked as he casually made his way towards him.

"I'm not smiling."

"Yeah, you are, and if I look around I'll probably find Orton somewhere close by am I right?"

Dean's silent stare was enough to keep that annoying smile stuck on Ryan's face. Knowing there was nothing else he could do, he simply rolled his eyes at the larger man. He hated that his friend knew his secret. Granted he wasn't great at keeping things secret. The only reason more people didn't know about his crazy crush was probably because he wasn't a very social guy. "Whatever, it's no big deal. I don't care if he's around or not."

Dean was well aware that his friend didn't believe him, but he kept that to himself as he watched Ryan's eyes stray over to the gorilla, knowing that Randy was standing in that exact spot. "Oh really? Well what would you do if I told you that your man is trying to pin me with a pretty sinister look right now?"

Dean sat up a little straighter, even as he tried to convince himself to show no reaction. "What?"

"Yeah he always does when I'm anywhere near you. But tonight just seems a little more intense than before."

"You never told me that."

"Why would I? I thought it was no big deal anyway?"

Knowing he had backed himself into a corner, Dean grabbed his bottle of water and the title belt before storming off in what he considered a perfectly logical reaction. He choose to ignore the laughter of his friend following him out of the room and the shouted response of "I don't know why you bother denying it anymore."

* * *

Randy could feel the anger rumbling in his chest, forcing a small growl out. He was more than willing to admit that he was a possessive bastard. And that part of himself didn't like that dick being anywhere near Dean. The man's mere approach had Randy's spine turning rigid. Why the hell was _he_ always hanging around Dean? There was nothing about the two of them that showed any similarities, nothing that pointed to them being friends.

But they obviously were, they were always talking with each other backstage, traveling together when their schedules permitted, hell they even roomed together pretty often, a fact that set Randy's teeth on edge every time he thought about it.

He'd put a few feelers out, as discreetly as possible, to find out what exactly was going on between the two men, but no one seemed to know for sure.

And that left him with his only option being to confront one of the men, something Randy just didn't have the balls to do, which told him just how emotionally invested in this he really was, as much as he wanted to deny that fact. He wasn't exactly scared to find out the answer, but he wasn't confident in the outcome either. And that just made nausea roll in his stomach. He hated that feeling, hated feeling this way, and it just pissed him off more. Now he remembered why he avoided situations like this at all costs. He hadn't been stupid enough to fall for someone in years. But, somewhere along the line the blond-haired, blue-eyed rebel had caught his attention and didn't let it go.

Actually, he knew when it had happened. He'd never shared it with anyone, not even Cena, the man he had considered his best friend for years, but he knew exactly when it had all started. The night his career finally started taking an upswing after too many years clawing at the ceiling holding him down. He had finally gotten the go ahead to win the Money in the Bank match and it wouldn't be too long before he was taking the championship. Now it was just a matter of waiting. It was a great feeling to know that he was going to be back in the main event picture after to many years paying for his past sins. Never one to come down off the high of winning too quickly, Randy had been headed out to grab some movies after getting all of his things settled into his room. He walked down the darkened street, wearing his ball cap and long sleeve shirt, despite the heat, to hide his tattoos. Ring rats didn't have a bed time, something he had learned over the years and he just didn't feel like fending them off tonight.

But halfway down the street, an image leaning against the railing overlooking the river drew his attention. The breeze was just enough to cause stray strands of the dirty blond hair to fly around his head.

"Ambrose?" Randy called out into the night.

And he pretended like his heart didn't skip and beat when those soft, blue eyes turned his way, the hair randomly falling to rest over the striking features. There was something about them, they weren't bright and they didn't jump out at you but they drew you in and held you captive. It was mesmerizing to say the least. And looking back, Randy realized that was the moment, that was the exact spot in time that it all started to fall apart, or come together.

Clearing his throat in an effort to hide being momentary stunned, he called out once more, "What are you doing out here?"

The only thing breaking the silence for the moments following his question was the rushing of water down the banks of the river. Finally, with a voice barely more than a whisper, he heard, "Just thinking through some things. Congrats on your win by the way."

"Yeah thanks, I'm really looking forward to the upcoming months."

"Yeah, I can imagine that."

Pleasantries aside, Randy couldn't think of anything else to fill the void. Just when he was getting ready to turn away from the awkwardness of the situation, Randy heard a long sigh and looked up in time to watch those slim shoulders sag.

"How did you deal with it?"

"Deal with what, the fame?"

"No." He didn't add anything else to his statement. Just sat there staring out into the city lights holding the darkness at bay. "How did you deal with the ups and downs? How did you deal with being the man one day and just a side note the next? I was supposed to be the future of this company, the start of something new, now they're just throwing me down to the mid-card."

Randy sat there, slightly stunned at the brutal honesty coming from the usually stoic man. "You aren't doing too badly, I mean you're still the US champion, so it's not like they're going to send you back to the little leagues any time soon." Randy tried to joke, but the humor didn't take.

"Yeah, but for how much longer? We just found out earlier today that I'm just in the pre-show of the next pay per view and the guys are going to lose their titles in a few months. We're basically just going to be back-up for whatever they have planned with the McMahons."

"How exactly is that a bad thing again?" Randy couldn't hold back his chuckle at how dejected Dean sounded over the proposed prospect. "I mean, you're going to have a part in one of the biggest storylines this company has seen for quite a few years. They aren't working to get rid of you man, they're just changing your angle some." Seeing that his words were having no effect on the downtrodden man, Randy decided to try something else. "Look, if they keep you doing the same thing over and over, fans will get bored with it, that's when you have to worry. When they don't care whether or not you still get a reaction from this stands."

"Yeah, I guess so. I just never wanted to be a background player, ya know?" Those eyes hit his full force again, begging him to understand.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But at least you didn't fuck up your chance yourself. Trust me that shit's even worse." He still had no clue what made him think to say any of that, but something about the unexpected sadness pouring off of the man in front of him was pulling the information from him. Ambrose didn't seem like the type of guy that any of this would happen with, he always seemed to hold it all together, hold it all in. And if Randy were honest, looking back, he loved the knowledge that he was seeing a side to the man that no one seemed to even know existed.

Still unsure that he had helped in anyway, but unable to think of anything else to say, Randy threw out an invite to join him. "I'm headed to pick out a few movies, then going back to my room with some late night take out. You wanna come with?" Randy held his breath, unsure of why the response meant so much to him.

Steady eyes bore into his own for a few seconds, as if judging the realness of his invitation. Finally, a response came, and Randy wished he would have just kept walking when he first saw the man.

"No, I don't need anything like that, shouldn't have let this happen in the first place. I got to get back to my room. Guess I'll be seeing you around Orton." The words had barely hit the air before the shorter man was striding away not sparing Randy a glance.

_What the fuck just happened?_ Randy was still reeling from the swift mood change, trying to figure out if he had done something to precede the hasty exit, when he came to the realization that for some unknown reason, the guy who just walked away took a small part of his heart with him. Even if he wasn't ready to admit that for a few more days.

And now, as he watched Dean walk away from another man backstage, a bit of a swagger in his step, and leave the other man laughing behind him for some unknown reason, Randy couldn't help but think that letting him leave that first time had been one of his biggest mistakes.


	2. Chapter 2

As the weeks stretched on and on, Randy couldn't help but become bitter over just how much of his heart he had lost to the blond. Every time he saw those lips purse in what Randy had started thinking of as his 'thoughtful' expression, every time he watched the man slide his headphones in to block out the rest of the world, every time he caught the man staring somberly at his title like he couldn't believe his actually had it, Randy fell a little bit deeper.

It was that last one that really got to him. The site of him running his fingers gently over his name plaque when he thought no one else was around was a breathtaking sight. The man was as callous as they came, never worrying about who was being hurt by what he had to say, but when Randy caught a glimpse of him in those quiet moments, he couldn't help but become attached. It was those infrequent times that convinced him, probably against his better judgment, that there was something more to the brash man then anyone realized.

But as he watched the big oaf laugh as Ambrose sauntered away from him, he started thinking that maybe he wasn't he only one who had seen Ambrose's other side. The laughter alone was enough to set his teeth on edge, but when he heard the taunt called out, his feet were moving before he even realized it.

"Hey Ambrose," he shouted, his mind still scrambling to try to figure out why he was doing this. "You're headed out already?"

For some reason, Dean decided to slowly turn around, giving Randy the chance to take in his fill of the view in front of him. Finally, flint-like eyes lifted to meet his own. "Yeah. Why?"

Randy tried his best to pretend like the hostility he heard in the other man's voice wasn't causing a pain somewhere deep in his chest. "Just asking man, chill the fuck out." He responded, trying his best to seem indifferent. "Thought it seemed weird you were cutting out before the show was even over. Hell, Reigns and Rollins haven't even had their match."

A mocking smile appeared on the man's face, his eyebrows lifting in obvious amusement. "We're not teenage girls, we're all pretty capable of going places on our own."

"But you don't." Randy observed quietly, thinking through what he seen. "Was it something Reeves said?" he asked as he stepped in closer, willing his body not to overreact to their close proximity. Dean's head couldn't have snapped back faster if Randy had slapped him.

"I don't need you checking up on me, I'm not some little weakling the bullies are gonna pick on, okay Orton?" Dean hissed out before storming off clearly pissed.

Randy could do nothing more but stare at the retreating back, even after he turned a corner, Randy couldn't seem to break himself free and move back towards the gorilla. That reaction just didn't fit with Dean's words. There was no way he would be that upset about a simple question unless he touched upon a tender subject. That meant that there had to be something happening between those two. Randy wasn't ready to acknowledge the spike of possessiveness that was welling up inside of him just yet, he just knew that if there was something to be fixed, and he was pretty sure there was, then he needed to be the one to fix it.

* * *

Dean could still feel his heart racing, he fucking knew that letting Orton see him when he was down was a mistake. In one moment of depression he had found himself wanting, almost needing, to talk to somebody and he'd found himself with Orton. It wasn't that he had anything against Orton before that, hell if he was honest, he had fantasized about the man many times, and he was hot as hell. It never felt like more than a passing attraction before, but after that one shared conversation, Dean found himself falling harder for the older man in a way that he never had before.

He was still working his way through his anger, tossing random items out of his bag onto the bed, his hotel room was slowly becoming a disaster zone, when he saw his phone light up on his dresser.

_You still coming out with us tonight?_ Seth's message read.

Dean paused with his fingers hovering over the keyboard, debating his response. He'd actually forgot about the plans to hang out with the guys tonight, Orton had a habit of doing that to him, making him forget about everything else that occurred in his life.

He really didn't feel like spending time with anyone, but he knew that being alone tonight wouldn't be good for him either.

_Yea, I'll be there._ He answered before throwing his phone on the bed. Dumping his suitcase out onto the mattress, Dean took in his choices in clothing. He wasn't usually one to care about what he wore or how things looked on him and tonight wasn't really any different. But, he realized, tonight was the perfect chance for him to start getting over this ridiculous crush. And a great way for him to start was by finding someone else to focus on, even if it was just for a night.

Walking into the bar, Seth and Roman at his side, Dean saw the rest of the guys he was meeting up with sitting at a table in the back. Sliding into the booth next to Ryan, Dean tried to ignore the possessive arm Roman threw across Seth's shoulders when he saw that the smaller man sat next to Cesaro. Dean knew his friend wouldn't poach, but Roman didn't take any chances. Turning his head to call over the waitress, Dean hoped his friends didn't notice his amused smile.

After placing his order and watching the waitress walk away, Dean scanned his eyes around the room, taking a mental list of who all was here. He was still determined to find some distraction from his never-ending attraction to Orton. After he made his third scan of the room, Dean started to feel a little depressed. He couldn't find one person that drew his attention. He looked over the small, lithe bodies of all the twinks gyrating on the dance floor, trying their best to attract the attention of some daddy for the night. He took in the tall, muscular men leaning against the bar, biding their time while scoping out the scene in front of them as well. But nothing was doing it for him.

Nothing until he felt an electric volt slide down his spine, he pulse quickening, his breath hitching with each raise and fall of his chest. That instant carnal need coursing through his body, that desperate need overcoming all other thoughts in his head, could only mean one thing.

And when he slowly turned his head towards the entrance, his eyes locked onto the ice blue gaze that wouldn't let his own eyes drop, Dean knew that there was no going back for him anymore.

* * *

"I don't want to be here."

"Yes, grump ass, we know." Randy slid his gaze to his right just enough to see his best friend from the corner of his eye. He could just see the smug look that was covering John's face, but the man didn't slow his pace any. Knowing it was no use trying to get out of this little get together, Randy shook his head and grabbed the door, flinging it open in a show of rage. He had tried his best to stay in the hotel, planning to watch late night talk shows while sulking over his earlier encounter with Ambrose.

But no. Cena had burst in the room, started throwing clothes at him and informing him that he would be going out that night. He'd fought it as best he could, but after Rhodes was called in on the plan as well, Randy knew he was fighting a losing battle. As he stormed into club and made his way straight to the bar, leaving his friends in his wake, Randy took a quick look around the room, wondering if there was anything there to catch his interest.

His gut clenched when his eyes settled on the familiar head covered with that unruly mop of dirty blonde hair. His heart rate picked up when he realized that head was slowly turning in his direction, and when those light blue eyes met his, Randy could have sworn that all the air was sucked from the room, because his lungs were burning with the effort it was taking him to continue breathing.

The man was gorgeous. He always had been, Randy easily admitted that, but when he saw him in this setting, at that exact time, he just looked perfect.

A motion to the man's right drew Randy's attention away from the smaller man momentarily, and what he saw made something shift deep in his chest. Ryan. Why the fuck was that man always around, always near Dean anytime Randy was given the opportunity to get close. It just seemed like fate's cruel way of dangling paradise in front of him before pulling it just out of reach with a laugh.

A low growl escaped him, as he dislodged his feet and continued on his trek across the room.

Once he made it to the bar, he leaned against the glossy surface, signaling to the bartender. A sigh fell from his mouth as he ran a hand roughly down his face. Why the hell couldn't he get over this? The craziest part of it all was that the man was nothing like his usual type. He'd always preferred them young and pretty, and while Ambrose may be gorgeous there was nothing pretty about him. He'd also always seemed to go for the innocent and easily led ones, not someone as gruff and hard as himself.

"I didn't know he was going to be here." A quiet voice to his right said. Another sigh filled the air, this one for once not from Randy before he heard, "Hell, I'm trying to convince you to give this all up and realize what a horrible idea it is, not throw him straight into your path."

Randy turned his body to lean and hip against the bar as he studied his friend's profile. "I know John, and you're right, I do need to get over this."

Randy watched with limited amusement when the blonde man whipped his head around to stare at him with wide eyes. "Did you just say I was right? " Cena asked, his voice dripping with mocking shock, "I never thought I would see the day. Better make sure I write this one on the calendar."

"And now I remember why I actually hate you." Randy mumbled as he walked away from the laughing man.

"Come on, Ran, dance with me!" He'd barely made it onto the dance floor before Cody had slung his arms around his neck and was pulling him towards their small group of friends gyrating around to the beat of the music.

Once they reached a spot that Cody deemed acceptable, he spun himself around to push his ass against Randy's crotch, and began swaying his hips in a hypnotizing rhythm. Once upon a time, this would have been exactly what Randy wanted, Cody had been exactly what Randy wanted, but the two had parted ways years prior, realizing they could never fully be everything to each other. There were no hard feelings, no awkwardness between the two. And at times, just like this one, they could easily put their past behind them and simply have fun with one another.

Randy could feel all the stresses that he had been struggling with start to melt away, he found himself smiling and laughing a little even. The next thing he knew, he was being shouldered out of the way as someone rushed past. Randy spun around with the intention of letting the other person know who they were dealing with, but all he was able to see was that familiar head of hair storming away from him.

Without taking the time to think, Randy spurred into action, following the other man out the door and continuing his pursuit down the street. He wasn't sure if Dean knew he was being followed, but he still managed to catch up with him within a block of the club.

"Hey Ambrose, you got a fucking problem?" Randy shouted at the other man while spinning him around by one of this arms.

"Who the fuck do you think you're yelling at? You don't demand anything from me, you hear me Orton? Nothing." Dean hissed out, the malice in his voice causing Randy to snap his head back in surprise.

Dean made a move to turn away, but Randy wasn't in the mood to allow that to happen. He latched his hand onto the other man's arm once more to spin him around. But this time, when the shorter man turned to face him, the eyes that looked up at him held more emotion in them than Randy had expected.

Some untold emotion snapped inside Randy, and before he had a proper grasp on the situation, Randy raised his hand up to cup Dean's jaw. The motion caused something to shift behind Dean's eyes and Randy started acting on autopilot. He slowly leaned his head down and pressed his lips softly against Dean's. It couldn't really be considered a kiss, merely a brush of lips, but Randy didn't miss the hitch it caused in Dean's breathing. Randy moved in closer to the other man, bringing his other hand up to run along one side of Dean's face. Spurred on by the desire he saw in those light eyes gazing up at him, Randy guided both his hands into that crazy mess of hair before grasping the strands in a firm grip and using that leverage to tilt his head to an angle that fit Randy's needs.

Still focusing solely on the man in front of him, watching closely for any sign that he wanted this to stop, Randy lowered his head once more and took Dean's mouth in a demanding kiss, not allowing him to hold anything back. When he felt those deceptively strong arms hesitantly move to wrap around his waist, Randy started to feel like this impulsive, absolutely insane act might just work out for him in the end.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey Orton, what'd you come out here for man? Oh." Many times over the years, he had felt like he made a mistake in befriending Cena over a decade ago, but he had never regretted it more than in that moment. The second that voice hit the air around them, Randy felt Dean tense, the arms around him immediately falling away. He couldn't hold back his groan of disappointment when Dean pulled away from him, putting as much space in between the two of them as quickly as possible.

Randy watched Dean's eyes flick between Cena and him, watched him twitch, and then he saw something change in his actions and his stance. Randy realized what was about to happen just before he saw Dean's fist raise up.

He never stood a chance at shielding the blow. The right hook caught him square in the jaw and sent him sprawling to the ground.

"What the fuck man?" Randy heard John exclaim, saw his body moving forward to help him. Randy snapped back into awareness, waving off John's offer of help, to pull himself up on his own. He stood there slowly rubbing his jaw as he watched Dean walk away. Just before turning the corner that would take him out of Randy's sight completely, he turned around and shouted, "Leave me the fuck alone Orton."

Randy stood there silently and watched his obsession disappear before dropping his head back to stare up at the sky.

"Man, what the fuck happened when you walked out here?" Randy heard John's voice once more. In response, Randy simply allowed his eyes to slide over and glare at his friend out of his peripheral. That annoying smirk he wore so easily meet his frustrated gaze just before he slowly lowered his eyelids once more and tilted his head farther back, letting the light breeze of the night slide over his face, the tingle still on his lips from that perfect kiss.

* * *

Dean practically fell through the doorway of his room in his haste to escape the thoughts and feelings following him. Slamming the door shut, Dean leaned forward until his forehead was pressed against the cool metal of the door. He'd made a lot of mistakes over the years, especially where Orton was concerned it seemed, but this had to have been his greatest slip up yet.

What else needed to happen for him to realize that this crush he was suffering from was a bad idea? For Christ's sake, Dean had just sat and watched, _suffered,_ through seeing that bitch Rhodes grind on Randy for a seamlessly endless amount of time. He still couldn't believe the way he had acted when it all got to be too much.

Storming out of there, making a scene on the dance floor by shoving against the dancing couple on his way out, and then the worst of it all. He'd let Orton catch up to him and then he'd let him kiss him. There were so many ways he could have prevented that. Starting with not purposely drawing Orton's attention on his way out the door.

Everyone on the roster knew what a slut Rhodes was and the guy never tried to deny it. Dean had never had a problem with it personally, he wasn't a good one to judge others based on what they got off on. Well, he'd never had a problem with it before he realized that Randy enjoyed the cheap trick's company. So that had been his first mistake, allowing his jealousy to take over and rule all his further actions.

And for years to come, Dean was sure he would never be able to explain why he allowed that kiss to happen. Randy had grabbed his arm and it was like a fire was ignited inside of him. A burning that ignited where their bodies meet skin to skin, his fingers on Dean's arm, it became the center of his focus. Now alone in his room, he allowed himself to slowly lift his hand up to graze his fingers along the same skin that Randy's hand had caressed mere minutes ago. He could still feel the light pressure of the caress. There was no other way for Dean to describe the hold Randy had placed on his face before taking his mouth in a truly dominating kiss. Even now, Dean had to fight to hold back an embarrassing whimper at the thought. Damn, that man could kiss.

And Dean had no doubt that everyone he worked with would be well aware of that kiss by morning thanks to Cena and his big ass mouth. What he wouldn't give to be headed to his own house and away from all of these people. It's so much easier to hide from all of your mistakes when you aren't surrounded by people who pointed them out every chance they could.

But that wasn't going to happen. There was no chance Vince was going to let him out of this tour loop, especially not on such short notice. He didn't see any other option available to him but to continue on through the hell he was sure to endure. Dean slowly pushed himself away from the door and began stripping away his clothing. He needed to get Randy's scent off of him as quickly as possible.

Stepping into the shower, Dean once again pressed his body against the cool tile, the steam and mist quickly filling the small area, helping him hide from his shame.

The shame of knowing that that none of what he had already relived since entering the hotel room was the worst part of the night. The worst part, thought Dean as he sank to the shower floor, streams of water beating down on his head, was that he had enjoyed that small moment in time when Randy had pressed their lips together so much he knew would never regret it.

He knew who he really was inside, and it wasn't anything similar to what he showed the world. He wasn't some little bitch who wanted to be babied and spoiled by any means. That had never been a concern of his. No his problem was that he believed in love, and he wanted to be in love. He had always dreamed of being treasured by someone special, someone that he could share everything with and would always be there when he needed them. Just as he wanted to be there for that person. But the world he lived in didn't allow for any of that. He had chosen to go into a very masculine business, and he loved his career, so that meant hiding the softer side of himself. Putting on a gruff outer shell to make sure no one ever learned of deep want for a true relationship in every sense of the word.

The worst part was that he felt Randy could be the man that could give him that, but he wasn't the type of guy Dean was supposed to lust after. The person he pretended to be would need to be the dominate partner in any relationship, and there was no way anyone would mistake Randy Orton as a submissive partner. People he worked with might be accepting of him being gay, but there wasn't any way they would accept him wanting to be cared for, have someone watch out of him and even protect him at times, which was truly his deepest desire.

So there he sat, water cascading down his face and chest, feeling the water turning colder with each passing minute and not caring, even when goose flesh broke out all over his body and his teeth began to clatter. Finally, when he felt his despair had hit its lowest point, he managed to pull himself out of the shower, wrap himself in a towel and shuffle his feet towards the bed.

He lifted up the covers and slid between the sheets, hoping to rid his body of some of the numbness brought on by the chilling water. Groaning as his body sank into the plush mattress, Dean tried to image simply falling asleep and pretending like everything would be fine when he woke up.

Picking his head up to punch the pillow multiple times in an attempt to force it into a more comfortable position, Dean knew that wasn't a possibility. Nothing would be fine for a very long time. Not after that mistake earlier. He'd been making a lot of stupid mistakes lately, but just standing there and allowing Orton to kiss him. Not only allowing himself to be kissed, but kissing back. He'd forgotten where they were, maybe even who they both were, when those lips pressed against his own.

Randy had definitely been hesitant, and who could blame him, Dean wasn't an easily approachable man and everybody knew he had a hair trigger, so it was easy to understand why the man was unsure about kissing him. But once Dean had felt those thin yet soft lips press against his, he'd been lost. It was wonderful, almost perfect, would have been perfect if Cena hadn't busted in on their moment.

Technically, it could probably have been considered a small blessing, but it didn't feel that way at that time. All Dean had wanted at that time was for Orton to press him up against one of those buildings and take him. And there were so many reasons why that was the worst idea he had ever had.

But still the image stuck with him, the sight of Orton's larger body holding his against a solid brick wall, one of those long, lean legs pressed between his own. The harsh scrap of that trademark scruff rubbing against his clean shaven face as he took the pleasure that was being given to him. Dean's eyes started to flutter shut as the thoughts and feelings running through his mind became overwhelming. He slowly slid his hand down his chest, grazing along the subtle abs and slightly hairy thighs before wrapping a cool hand around his balls, swollen heavy with arousal.

A hiss escaped his clenched teeth as he brought his other hand up to run a finger over the head of his penis, dipping slightly into the slit, feeling the pre-cum gathering there. He had lost track of how many times he had done this, taken himself in his head while imagining it was Orton's hand bringing him such pleasure.

Yet all those other times were paling in comparison to now, for the simple fact that now he had the experience of Randy's lips pressed against his own and when he closed his eyes he could still feel the light pressure. As weak as he knew he appeared in that moment, and as upset as he was at himself for that, he was still thankful for that experience. No matter what the future holds, or what ramifications come his way, he would always remember that moment.

His breath hitched when he finally closed his fist around his shaft, applying just the right amount of pressure to bring his ultimate pleasure. Slowly, like he was trying to tease himself, Dean moved to slide further between his legs to play with his opening. His breathing quickened as he slowly worked a finger into the puckered hole. Each stroke became faster than the next as he worked another finger into the tightness. His hand became nothing more than a blur as he jerked himself to completion, his muscles contracting as white liquid spilled out of his cock to splatter on his chest and stomach.

He lay still, sated and unable to move as pulses of pleasure still shot through his body at random intervals. His struggled to keep his eyes open, the satisfaction his body was experiencing so great it was hard to stay awake. Just when his eyes shut fully and his mind was almost lulled to sleep, he was jerked from bed by pounding on the door.

His body shot into action before his mind could fully catch up. He had the covers thrown back and was standing next to the bed in an instant.

"I know you're in there Ambrose and I'm not leaving until I see you so unless you want me to cause a big fucking scene in this hallway I suggest you let me in now." Dean's knees almost buckled at the sound of that voice shouting orders at him. And something in that voice told him he wasn't joking about causing that mentioned scene.

Dean reached down and grabbed his discarded towel, hurriedly trying to clean his body, hoping he could hide the evidence of his actions from just moments ago. Wrapping the towel around his waist and hurriedly moving across the room, Dean flung the door open just as the pounding started again.

"What the fuck is your problem? And how the hell did you find out which room was mine?" Dean asked as soon as he could fully see the taller man. He ignored the shiver that racked his body when those ice blue eyes swept down his near naked body. He also choose to ignore the quick intake of breath he heard when those eyes settled on his prominent hip bones, his towel doing nothing to hide them. Dean silently thanked fate for the fact that he had recently come and it was physically impossible for him to become hard again, not that his body wasn't giving it its best shot under that intense gaze.

"It's not hard for me to find out any information I want and what room someone is staying in his hardly top secret shit." Randy told him as he strode into the room like it was a common occurrence for them to hang out in each other's hotel rooms. He watched as Randy's did a slow take in of the room, and Dean did his best to calm his rapidly beating heart when his gaze settled on the rumpled sheets of Dean's recently abandoned bed. Randy spun around to face Dean, meeting his eyes dead on without any hesitation before stating, "As for why I'm here, that's simple. I want to know why you ran away from me like you were scared."

Dean didn't think though his reaction, he simply raised his fist and plowed it into the other man's jaw. _Again. _Oh fuck. He watched in horror as the man he lusted after for months fell to the ground once again due to his actions. What the fuck had he been thinking? His personally feelings aside, this man was a big fucking deal in the wrestling world and pissing him off was not a smart thing to do for someone just starting out in their WWE career. None of that showed though, years of practice helped him hide his real reaction behind his well-practiced public persona easily. "I'm not scared of shit Orton, remember that." Dean hissed out as he stood over the older man.

Dean watched in amazement as Randy stared up at him with that cocky smirk on his face. "Sure you're not," he told him before pulling himself up using the bed as leverage, "that's you just punched me, _a second time._ So what, you just got some anger issues then?"

"Only when I'm pissed off."Dean quickly replied, secretly enjoying the small smile he saw the other man trying to hide at his smartass comment.

"Well you can be pissed off all you want and it doesn't bother me if you give me that hard ass glare all night, I'm not leaving until we have this out. And don't even think about hitting me again, you won't get lucky a third time."

Dean swallowed loudly at the look in Randy's eye, the one that promised him his night was going to be much more interesting than he had originally thought.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: A huge thank you to anyone who has shown an interest in this story, or anyone who is taking the time to read it at all, it truly means a lot to me. Hopefully it stays enjoyable and interesting enough to keep everyone's attention :)_

* * *

Silence filled the space between the two men. Dean felt like his tongue had swollen and was sticking to the roof of his mouth, leaving him incapable of speech. A small part of him was thankful for that because it gave him a tangible reason to blame for him not responding. The real reason, Dean hated to admit, was simply that he couldn't. He had no clue how to respond to that.

"What that fuck was all that earlier?" Randy demanded.

All he could do for the seconds following the question was slowly blink, like he was clueless about what Randy was talking about. There was no way that he didn't know of course, it was impossible. That kiss would remain permanently etched in his memory for many years to come.

Just when he saw the lines around Randy's eyes and mouth deepen in apparent frustration, Dean took a deep breath and looked away from the stare down the two men had been unconsciously having. "It was a mistake." He finally forced out, the words tasting bitter in his mouth.

"What?" Randy asked, and for a moment, Dean thought he heard some hurt filling the words.

"That was a mistake, it should have never happened." Dean told him, more forceful this time. "I don't need anything like that." And he didn't, he didn't need to sleep his way onto the roster, he was talented, hell he was one of the best up and coming guys around, he could do this all on his own.

"What are you talking about, anything like that, like what?" Randy asked. Dean's pride was still smarting some from his earlier weakness, and every second spent in the Viper's presence was twisting the knife a little deeper. Why was the man purposely ignoring the facts put in front of him? Dean had made it obvious that he wouldn't sleep with him to further his career, but Randy still refused to leave, hell he refused to even acknowledge that was what he was proposing.

"Like all of that, what you obviously seem to want." Dean watched as Randy's jaw stiffened with each word he spoke.

Dean would have to be blind to not notice the instant tension and anger pouring off of Randy. "Oh really, well why don't you tell me what that is, what exactly it is that I want Ambrose." He demanded, his voice firming and cooling rapidly.

"I don't have time for this shit. Get the fuck out of my room." Dean demanded shortly. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself together and he didn't want Randy anywhere near him when it all finally fell apart.

"No, I don't think so. I'm not going anywhere until you give me some fucking answers. You clung to my ass and drove your tongue down my throat like you couldn't let me go for anything. Then in the next second, you're pushing me away, _hitting me,_" Orton's deep voice seemed to drop even more as it sent shots of unwanted need through Dean, "and then storming off like some little kid throwing a tantrum. Then, when I come to find you and I get slugged in the jaw another time. I don't like playing games and that all you seem to be fucking doing." Randy finished and Dean was able to easily see how much he was working to contain himself. But he was working pretty hard himself to keep from breaking down, and Randy's anger only seemed to fuel his own.

"If you don't like how I'm acting then why the fuck are you here?" Dean shouted at him. Why couldn't the man just leave him alone so he could pull together his wounded pride? Dean took a deep, calming breath and let his eyes drift shut. He could feel the situation starting to get out of control, if it wasn't already, and that was the last thing he wanted. He didn't have the greatest track record of keeping his calm and everything he knew about Randy pointed to him not being able to handle that kind of situation well either. He slowly opened his eyes to look into the stunning blues of the taller man. He was obviously not going to get him out of here without telling him exactly why he needed to leave and he loathed to even thinking about doing that. But it appeared to be the only option. Dean tried to take a steadying breath, but it ended up being rather stuttered. He just hoped that if he was going to have to do this, it would only be this one time he had to lay it all on the line.

"Look, I'm not going to be one of those sluts who fucks the bigger names in the business to guarantee his pushes or to make sure he keeps getting title shots. I've made it this far without your so called help and I don't need it to start now." Dean could feel his anger and dismay at the situation overtaking him. He just wanted this all to be behind him and for the man to leave him alone. Maybe then he could finally be finished with his feelings for the guy. One could hope anyway.

"So, you think I'm here because I want you to bend over for me in return for a push to the top? You honestly think the only way I can get a man is if I dangle some kind of incentive in front of him?" It was all Dean could do not to flinch away from the anger lacing the words Orton was spitting out at him. Dean's own brow furrowed in confusion when he took in the tic of Randy's jaw and the slanted eyes glaring at him with disdain. That was not the same face of the man who had been propositioning him all night.

"You know what, I'm done with this. You don't need to worry about me trying to buy my way into your pants anymore." Randy told him, his voice eerily quiet and cold, as he pushed past him and left the room, the door slamming in his wake. Somehow, even though it all appeared to be over, Dean wasn't as happy with the outcome as he thought he should be.

* * *

"So are you still pissed at me?" John asked, peaking his head around the doorframe of Randy's locker room. Randy lifted his head from where he was stretching on the floor to stare at the other man before shaking his head and lowering his gaze back to the floor, not saying anything.

"Look, it's not like I knew that you were making out with the guy in the street. I was just following my friend after he stormed out of a bar, making sure he was okay. When you think about it, I'm kind of the hero of this story."

This finally pulled Randy out of his well-practiced routine, his jaw actually dropped when he looked up at the now sitting man, lounging back on one of the chairs in the room, perfectly at ease with a smartass grin on his face.

"You're right Cena, thank you so much for saving me with your quick action." Randy told him, rolling his eyes and tempering his real emotions.

"So I'm guessing this attitude of yours means you didn't get lucky after making a fool of yourself by chasing the man through the streets and forcing your way into his hotel room? Shocking." Randy heaved an exasperated sigh when a new voice joined the conversation. He stared up at his best friend when the man's boyfriend made his entrance into the room with a snarky comment. He'd shared his plan with John before heading towards the hotel last night, he didn't know why he hadn't expected John to tell Punk all about it, or why he hadn't expected Punk to judge him in his own trademark way.

The smaller man making his way into the room to drop himself into Cena's lap without so much as one word from the larger man didn't do anything to help his mood either.

"You had to have been expecting it from him." Cena simply told him, his tolerance with the younger man apparently never ending. John moved his eyes over to Randy as he started running one of his hands up and down Punk's ribs. Randy watched the hand closely, his eyes almost entranced by the subtle movement. He knew he friend was watching him, aware that there was something on Randy's chest he wanted to share but knowing him well enough not to try to force it out of him. Maybe there was something to be said for being friends with someone for over a decade.

"When I got there and demanded to know what was happening he accused me of trying to buy his ass with a good word in the ear of someone who controlled his career." Randy told them both, never pulling his eyes away until the moving hand stilled.

"What?" John asked him as Randy made eye contact for the first time since he admitted what had occurred the night before.

"Basically, he told me that he had no intentions of sleeping with me, no matter what I offered to do for his career."

"You offered to get him a bigger push if he fucked you?" Cena asked, his voice tainted with disbelief.

Randy stared at his friend for a few seconds, his jaw ticking with annoyance. "Of course I didn't," he snapped, "he just assumed that was what I was doing. Like he couldn't believe that anyone would sleep with me without that offer." Even Randy couldn't pretend like there wasn't bitterness in his voice.

Punk on the other hand, found the whole situation hilarious for some reason, which did nothing to improve Randy's mood. "Why are the two of you here? Don't you have your own locker room where you can annoy each other and leave me alone?"

"Look I'm sorry, but that is fucking hilarious." Punk told him, flicking his tongue against his famous lip ring, "Your ego can't be taking this well." Randy's eyes narrowed further as he pulled himself up to his full height.

"What's really pissing me off," he said, purposely ignoring Punk's last comment, "is that he had no reason to say any of that, hell to even think any of that."

"Seriously? Orton come on, it's not like it's never happened before. Everyone knows there are a few certain people who made it into the business that way. And you're one of the big guys now, please help us, so it's only natural that he's suspicious."

"This is still bullshit. Even if all of that is true, I've never once given him reason to believe that's what I wanted to do or him to do."

"That doesn't really matter, it's what everyone else thinks about the situation. It's what he's heard happening so he expects it to happen. Hell, some people in the back still give me dirty looks because they think that's how I made it big, because of John."

"What the hell? Why would they say that?" Cena's indignant tone filled the small room. "We weren't even together until a year after you got the title."

"Yes, we both know that." Punk responded slowly, like he was talking to a small child. "But they don't. There's a lot of jealousy in the back, you know that. All they know is that one day I'm nothing, the next I'm the biggest name in wrestling. Then they see me with you and they don't really know how long we've been together. Haters are gonna hate, you just got to deal with it."

"Guys, focus on me again, remember, the main reason you're even in this room?" Randy practically shouted, his frustration getting the best of him. "I don't give a damn what everyone else is doing or saying, the fact that he doesn't think I can get anyone without throwing around my name and the behind the scenes power everyone seems to think I have, is the end of it. He thinks so little of me then I don't want any of it."

"Told you his ego couldn't take it." Punk stage whispered to John, who tried his best to bite back a grin, but wasn't entirely successful.

"Good, that means this is all over." John's voice boomed, entirely too cheerfully for the situation, "You know I never supported this from the beginning. You need to get over this stupid crush, all it's done is bring you down. This might be the worst way for it all to end, but at least it is an end."

"Right." Randy said, still not wanting to fully acknowledge to full situation.

"Come on Punk, let's go grab something to eat." John told him, nudging his lover off his lap and leading him to the door. Before crossing the threshold, he turned around to face Randy once more. "I really think this is all for the best Randy."

Randy simply nodded to show he had heard the other man, never taking his eyes off the monitor hanging on the wall. Once he heard the door quietly click shut, Randy lowered himself to the floor once more to resume his stretching. But instead, he just sat there, staring at the monitor, wishing he felt the same way about this ending as Cena did.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Page breaks on this site have been driving me absolutely insane on this story, so I hope the formatting has looked okay and is easily readable._

* * *

"Okay, are you willing to tell me what the fuck is going on or am I going to have to drag it out of you?" Ryan asked, setting his fork down and staring at him across the table. Dean momentarily stopped chewing before looking around, seeing if anyone was listening into their conversation. It was still a few hours before the pay per view, so catering was still relatively empty. When he was sure no one else was eavesdropping, Dean turned back to his friend and did his best to put off answering the question. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yeah you do." Ryan told him bluntly, his eyes slightly narrowing. This was why their friendship had made it all these years, Ryan never pretended to buy any of the shit Dean tried to put off.

Dean looked down at his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. He didn't want to talk about any of this, he just wanted to pretend like none of this had ever happened. He knew that he hadn't been acting right since last night. Dean was so sure that he was making the right decision in sending Randy away, but right before he turned to leave, the look on the man's face was sent a crippling pain straight to Dean's heart. He had stood there and silently watched the man go, wanting so badly to shout out his name and call him back but knowing that he couldn't.

"I kissed Randy last night." Dean told him, never looking up. He held his breath waiting to see what his friend had to say for him, but after a while, the silence continued to stretch on and he was forced to look up and met his friend's gaze.

"What?" Ryan barked out, the word clipped and made Dean jump slightly in his seat.

"Randy, I kissed him last night, or more specifically he kissed me and I let him." Dean repeated, unsure what reaction he was going to get from his friend anymore. The sudden laugh and clap on the shoulder wasn't what he was expecting though.

"This is great man! It's about time you did something about all of this." Ryan all but shouted. Dean did another quick survey of the room once more.

"Will you keep your fucking voice down." Dean hissed, "There's nothing about this that is great."

"Why not? You've been craving this guy for months and you finally got him. What's the problem?" Ryan asked, his brow creased in confusion.

"The problem is, that Cena caught us kissing and I took off right after that, so who knows what happened between the two of them after that. Then when Randy came to my room later on…"

"Wait, wait, wait… Randy came to room, as in Randy followed you to your room after you ran away from him? This man is obviously into you, I told you to go for it. So what happened next?" Dean shook his head at how giddy his friend sounded over the prospect of hearing how the night went.

"Nothing happened. I told him I didn't need to sleep my way to the top then I kicked him out."

"What? He offered to get you a push if you slept with him?"

"No, but why else would he want to sleep with me?" Dean asked him, hiding his true fears on the matter.

"Um, maybe he could have just wanted to be with you, you know get to know you, date you. Not have any part of the business be a part of it." Ryan was looking at him like he was particularly dimwitted. And just like that, he had pointed out Dean's biggest fear, that he had been completely wrong in all of his assumptions. And ruined everything.

"God, you're such a dick sometime. Why are you so worried about what could happen? That man could have really wanted something with you, maybe even exactly what you want with him, and you couldn't let your guard down for even a second to take that chance."

Dean was really starting to get irritated with the attack his friend was launching on him. He needed to deflect this conversation, because it was turning into a territory he wasn't ready for. "Look, who said I even wanted to be with the guy. Maybe I just like looking at him like everybody else in the world seems to enjoy."

"I say you want more." Ryan cut him off, and cut through all his bullshit at the same time once more. "And so would anybody else you has caught you looking at him, seen you soaking up any piece of him that you can." Dean couldn't do anything but stare at his friend ranting at him from across the table, but still somehow keeping his voice down, which Dean was very thankful for, even though he could easily see how hard it was for the larger man. It was one thing for someone who had known him for years to know how he acted like a fool whenever he was around the man he found so attractive, but it was a whole other situation for some random person on the roster to know. That was the type of thing that spread quickly and would be used against you in anyway it could to benefit someone else.

"Look Dean, I know you don't want to hear this, but you have got to lighten up man, stop being such a jerk to someone who's just trying to get to know you. And I know for some reason you think doing that makes you weak, but you got to decide. Either leave it all alone the way it is or take a chance, lower your guard and let the guy in." Dean stared at his friend, letting those words sink in. Could he do that, could he take the chance that letting Orton see his softer side wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

"What are you guys over here talking about like a bunch of chicks?" Dean looked up to see Seth and Roman making their way to the secluded table in the back corner.

"Nothing." Dean answered shortly, shooting Ryan a warning glance.

Ryan stared back at him for a few seconds before slightly shaking his head. "Right," he said looking at the other two, 'just talking about what they have me doing later. I'm joining Heyman's stable tonight."

"Nice man, that's usually a good step up." Roman's deep voice told him. "What exactly is going to happen?" Dean sat back and listened to the conversation happening around him but not trying to partake in any of it. The words were simply buzzing around his head, not really sinking in. He did his best to not look across the table and see the judgment he knew would be shinning in Ryan's eyes. Maybe the guy was right and he was being too hard on Orton. Dean didn't have any proof that any of the things he was punishing Randy for were true.

"Alright guys, I'm out, I have to meet with Punk about how the match is ending tonight." Dean looked finally looked up when his friend announced his leave, and he caught his eye for long enough to get the message. He was going to screw any hope he had if he kept acting this way. Really, what was the worst that could happen? Dean felt a shudder run down his spine at that thought, maybe that wasn't the best way to think about it.

"Hey are you listening to us man?" Dean heard Seth ask, his voice breaking through the confusing fog he had created around himself.

"Sorry, spaced out. What's up?" he asked, doing his best to focus on the men in front of him rather than the one who had filled his thoughts nonstop for the past twenty-four hours.

"We were just talking about whether or not we should interfere in each other's matches tonight. What do you think?"

"I don't think so, most of the other matches are going to have some kind of interference tonight, we don't want it to get to stale." He looked between the other two to see both of their heads shaking in agreement. In full agreement, the three sat there and talked about nothing of any importance, finishing their meals and slowly getting into the right mental space for the show.

As they finished and were gathering their plates before to heading back to the locker room, Dean saw a flash of movement to his right. Turning his head he saw Ziggler sit down in one of the abandon chairs of his friends. Dean narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything to the man, waiting to see what was going on. Silence reigned as both men stared at each other, Ziggler smacking his gum repeatedly, the sound setting Dean's teeth on edge but he refused to show that. He wasn't sure what was happening here and staying as stoic as possible seemed to be the right course of action. Finally a smirk overcame his features and Dean an uneasy feeling filled Dean's stomach. He should have known he wouldn't like this conversation.

"So, you're keeping the title tonight huh?" Dean didn't acknowledge the statement with as much as a nod of the head. That wasn't something either of them just found out so there was no reason why he would be bringing it up now. "Actually," he continued, "I haven't heard anything about you losing it anytime soon." He leaned forward as he spoke until his arms were crossed and resting on the table in front of him.

"Yeah they're planning on me keeping it for a while, making it a point of contention in the group after a few months. Why you getting tired of all the jobbing you've been doing lately?" Dean asked, his own smirk appearing, however he stayed just as weary of where this conversation was going.

"The only reason I'm being buried is because of what I said and I'm not ashamed of what I said, it's true, and everyone back here knows it. Unless you're a friend of someone important around here you're nothing. They want to punish me for the truth then let them."

"Bullshit, you hate it, anyone would. Why didn't you just keep your mouth shut, you should know better by now."

"I didn't keep my mouth shut," Dolph told him, his easygoing demeanor disappearing quickly, "because I'm tired of the status quo around here, just like most of the other mid-card." Dean watched as he slowly leaned back in his chair, the smugness once more coming to the forefront. Dean bristled, every instinct he had was telling him he wasn't going to like what was said next. "Although, it makes sense now why you wouldn't want things to change."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded, unsure of where this was headed but not liking it at all.

Ziggler lost all pretense of civility as he stood up and moved in closer to Dean until they were standing with chests pressed together, staring each other in the eye. And when he spoke, his voice was nothing more than a hiss. "It means that I saw Orton stick his tongue down your throat last night and then shockingly, I saw him leaving your room later on. It must be pretty easy to make it in this business when you don't mind being a slut for one of the top guys huh?" Dean paled at the words being spoken to him, it was a struggle for him to even breathe. "Enjoy that championship reign you've got going on, you obviously earned it." Dolph told him with a smirk, obviously seeing the affect his words had on the younger man, before sauntering away.

Dean stood there, stunned and unable to speak. He looked around, making eye contact with some of the guys he had come up with from FCW. The few that did meet his gaze looked at him with disgust, it was obvious that the majority of the roster had heard about his late night visitor. And they all seemed to come to the same conclusion as Ziggler.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean smashed his way through the maze of hallways in the back. He didn't bother with saying anything to any of the people, even those he knocked out of his way. His only thought was getting to the safety of his locker room, behind a closed door where he could let his world fall apart without witnesses. Entering the area of reprieve, Dean met the eyes of his teammates with wild ones of his own.

"What's up man?" Roman asked, slowly pulling himself up to his full height.

Dean didn't answer right away, he just leaned against the door for support, hoping that taking deep breaths would slow his fluttering heartbeat. He took the time to glance between his two partners concerning looks, wondering whether or not either of them were aware of the situation. If they were, then they both seemed to be handling the information well, neither were looking at him with contempt, always a good thing.

He was going to have to tell them if they didn't already know, Dean knew that, he just didn't like it. But letting them find out from someone else was just unacceptable. Besides if he told them himself, he could explain, and hopefully they would believe him.

"I have to tell you guys something and I don't know what you're going to think of it." He took a deep breath and continued on before he could talk himself out of it. "I kissed Orton last night," Dean finally let his gaze fall away when he saw both Roman's and Seth's eyebrows shoot up at his confession. "Then he ended up in my room a little bit later." Dean decided to leave most of the details of the night out when recapping for his friends, like those punches for instance. "I didn't sleep with him, but pretty much everybody thinks I did and now they're saying that me being a slut is the reason we're on the roster now." Once he finished speaking, he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, waiting on his friends' reaction to the bombshell he just dropped.

However, nothing could have prepared him for the chuckle he heard from Seth. "Man, you would think they would be smart enough to realize if that was the case we would have gotten a longer push. Hell, you would probably be in the championship picture by now."

"What…" Dean trailed off, staring at Seth like he was speaking a foreign language. He couldn't tell if he was being made fun of or if his friend actually found the whole situation funny.

He moved his eyes over to Roman to see the larger man smiling at him and shaking his head. "Dean, we've known about this crush you've had on Orton for months now, no matter how well you think you hid it. And we know you aren't sleeping with him, you've handled the whole situation way too badly to actually be getting some from the guy."

Dean narrowed his eyes as he assessed the two men he had grown pretty close to over the previous months. He still didn't know whether or not he could believe everything they were saying. And what was with everyone telling him how bad his decisions had been? How the hell did everyone seem to realize what was going on without giving Dean one damn clue.

Seth, finally seeing that Dean didn't seem to be losing any of his tenseness, pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and moved over to throw an arm across his shoulders. "Relax man, we don't think any less of you for it, it's not like you can control who you fall in love with, everyone knows that."

"Love?" Dean asked, pulling himself away in shock. "Who said anything about love? I don't love him."

Dean didn't trust the smile he saw spread on the bearded man's face. "Keep telling yourself that Ambrose."

* * *

Randy stood in the monitor bay repeated rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ease some the tension from the joints. He kept his eyes glued to the screen, watching every second of the match taking place. He'd never thought of himself as a masochist, but as he stared at the performance taking place in the ring, flinching with every bump he saw Ambrose take, Randy realized that might be the perfect way to describe himself.

Jesus, this had to end. He knew that it did, but at the same time he didn't want it to. Because as painful as watching and wanting the smaller man while always knowing that he couldn't have him, giving up any and all hope was just that much worse.

Randy ignored the fact that he breathed a sigh of relief when the bell finally rung, signaling the end of the match. He also didn't acknowledge the happiness he felt when he saw that Dean retained his championship. He was on a downhill slope and he needed to find a way off fast. Hell, who was he kidding, he'd already hit rock bottom where that man was concerned and it was just sad that he pretended otherwise.

"Hey Randy." He turned in the direction he heard Cody's sing-song voice coming from.

"Hey Codes, what's up?" Randy asked, his mind not fully on the conversation taking place.

"I'm headed out for the hotel, I was just wondering if you still wanted to ride together to Cleveland tomorrow?"

"Yeah sounds good to me."

"Okay, you want to meet up tonight too?"

Randy opened his mouth to tell his friend that he was just going to spend the night in his hotel room since he wasn't feeling much for going out, but before he got a chance to respond, he saw Cody's eyes slide over to something behind him. Randy spun around to see Ambrose giving them a look that would have stopped lesser men in their tracks.

Could this guy give him any more mixed signals? Every time he turned around something seemed to be happening to throw what he thought of their interactions into a tailspin. Last night, he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with Randy and now, here he was glaring at Rhodes like he wanted to skin the guy alive. "Guess it's a good thing I won't be the only one people are accusing of being your slut for the night, it can take some of the attention off of me." Randy watched Dean walk away from him, yet again, after that snide remark.

_What. The. Fuck._

"Dude, what the hell is that all about? And where the hell does he get off calling me a slut?" Cody asked, the anger and dismay in his voice causing his lisp to become even more pronounced. Randy watched from the corner of his eye as the younger man turned towards him, eyebrows drawn in fury. "You need to figure that out, because this shit is getting old." He heard Cody tell him from somewhere behind him. Yeah, he did need to figure out what was happening, and he needed to do it soon. Like right now.

Randy went to follow the shorter man down the hallway when he heard Hunter yelling his name. "Get over here, I want to go through a quick rundown one more time with you guys about what's going to happen tonight." Randy stared at his boss like he couldn't understand what was being asked of him. He stood there long enough that he even managed to draw the attention of Bryan and Armstrong too.

He didn't want to leave the situation the way it was with Ambrose, God only knew what was going through the guy's head right now, but it was time for his match and Randy was well aware of what would happen if he walked away from Hunter right now. And it only pissed him off more that there was nothing he could do about it. So he trudged his way across the floor to join the small group standing at the gruella. And through the whole impromptu meeting, Randy repeated looked down the hallway that Dean had disappeared through, wishing that the guy would return, at least long enough for Randy to pull him aside and let him know that this, whatever _this_ was, wasn't over between the two of them.

* * *

"I'm an idiot." Dean said out loud to no one. He was sitting alone in his room, soaking up his misery while staring out the window into the night. Dean heaved a sigh, could he be any more of a teenage girl. Probably not, he answered his own question while taking a deep drag from his cigarette. He'd pretty much hit the bottom when he had run off in a jealous rage after finding Rhodes talking to Orton. Making plans for that night with Orton. Fuck he was an idiot.

He'd figured that if everyone else already thought he was fucking his way to the top, and his teammates didn't seem to care, what would be the harm in giving the guy a chance. He knew the truth and so did all the guys on the roster whose opinion mattered to him, as few as that number may be. There was no reason why he couldn't swallow a bit of pride and see where this thing could go, if it could go anywhere. He had been so wrapped up in his worries about what people would think of him, he had complete forgot about his worries over how many guys Orton had at his beck and call. _A fucking idiot._

He'd left the arena to buy a bottle of Jack, a pack of smokes, all with the intention of holing up in his room to sulk and enjoy his pain all on his own. And he couldn't even do that right.

One swig from the bottle had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Not that it ever tasted good, but tonight it had tasted like hell traveling down his throat. So he had set the bottle in the window sill before collapsing in the chair, lighting up cigarette after cigarette, chain smoking until the room was filled with enough smoke to rival any bar.

He always had been good at enjoying his misery, that's what made him such a bastard sometimes. And he was just starting to really sink into a sulk when a soft knock sounded from the other side of the door. The sound filling the silence of the room so suddenly, it felt like a cannon had gone off.

He figured this was coming, he'd the left the arena to fast and without telling anyone. That was basically making a promise that someone would be showing up to check on him, and then he went a turned off his phone. Hell that was the equivalent to calling out for a search and rescue party for some of his friends.

He pulled himself out of the chair, making bets with himself over which of his friends would be on the other side of the door. But of course, it wasn't. Dean felt exhaustion overtake him as he stared up into the blue eyes of his almost stalker. He sagged against the door, suddenly feeling desperate for an end to whatever this was.

"Randy look…" But whatever he had planned to say was swallowed up in a deep, probing kiss. Randy launched himself at Dean in a way that seemed as desperate as Dean felt. He allowed himself to sink farther into the kiss, damning the consequences along the way. He couldn't keep denying himself of this man.

Those soft lips on his own pulled him deeper and deeper into his desire. And the hands running against the bare skin of his back felt like licks of fire burning against his flesh. Suddenly, when it all started to feel like too much, the hard body pressed against him tore away. Dean opened his eyes, glazed over with lust, and tried to figure out where it had disappeared. He met the concerned eyes of the older man, unsure of what was happening.

"Have you been drinking?" He heard Randy ask him, but there was no malice in his voice, only worry.

"What?" Dean asked, still slowly trying to figure out what was happening.

Randy let out a sad sigh. "I won't fuck you if you've been drinking, I can't take advantage of you like that. And I can taste the whiskey on your tongue." Randy told him pulling back even more. Holy hell, now this man was a stand-up guy. Dean fell for him just a little farther, which should have terrified him because he was already in way over his head, but for some reason all he felt was a sense of calm.

"I had one drink when I first got back here. I'm not even buzzed. You can see for yourself, the bottle is sitting over there." He started to pull back to gesture towards the mostly full bottle, when strong arms wrapped him once more and pulled him back to press against the sculpted chest. "I'll take your word for it." Suddenly he was sinking back into that abyss, shots of pleasure moving from his lips through his body. "I need this," he heard, "please don't stop me now, please tell me you want it just as much."

He slid his eyes open in time to see the desperate need in those hovering above him. He knew better, he knew that Randy had been making plans with Rhodes only hours ago. But now he was here, with him, and he could only give one answer. "I'm done fighting with you over all this, I can't anymore. I need it just as much as you, maybe even more."


	7. Chapter 7

Randy could hardly believe that this was finally happening. It just didn't seem possible. He did his best to ignore the small voice in the back of his head telling him that this might be a bad idea. He already knew that the two of them were physically compatible, he knew that they would be great together in bed. It was the rest of their lives that he wasn't so sure about. He wanted this man to be a part of his everything, for him _to be _his everything. He just didn't know if the other man wanted him the same way.

Those were all worries that he should have been focusing on, but when he felt the light brush of fingers against his abs, all other thoughts just disappeared. He was left to focus on the sensations of the other man touching him. The slight chill of the room caused his nipples to harden almost instantly as those hands slid up to his chest, taking his shirt along with them. His eyes locked on Dean's just before the smaller man bent his knees enough to make his mouth level with one of Randy's nipples. Randy watched the hazy blue eyes disappear behind lowered lids, just before that amazing mouth latched onto his pebbled flesh.

A hiss of pleasure escaped him, his head falling back onto his shoulders as he brought his hands up to wrap in those long blond locks. The vibrations of a moan moved through his chest when he tightened his grip just enough to pull lightly on the hair. The sensations pouring through his body making him tighten his fingers even more in the hope that the pleasure would continue.

Unable to withstand the glorious torture anymore, Randy moved his hands under Ambrose's arms and lifted him up before tossing him back onto the bed. He wasted no time in descending upon the tempting body, latching his lips and teeth onto the tender skin of the newly exposed neck, and moving his hands to begin working open the jean's zipper.

He pulled back just enough and took the time to look into those soulful eyes, heavy lidded with lust. When Randy slowly ran the tip of his tongue along his lips and saw Dean's eyes trace the motion, he knew he had him. They were both in the moment and they wanted the same thing. But more than that, Randy needed this. The consequences may end up being more than he could bare in the end, but for right this second he simply needed the man lying under him.

He leaned in and crashed his mouth against Dean's, not giving the younger man a chance to rethink anything this time. He brought his hands up to wrap around the slim waist, lightly running his fingers along the edge of his jeans. He didn't want to give him any time to run away again but he wasn't going to force him into anything either. But that worry suddenly disappeared when he felt more than heard Dean groan underneath him and then slip his hands under the back of his shirt, the nails lightly scoring his skin.

Sure now that Dean wanted exactly what he was giving, Randy pushed forward, pressing the smaller man further into the bed. He couldn't hold back his moan of pleasure, he finally had the man he had fantasized about for so very long underneath him. It was all working out too perfectly. He should have known better than to expect it to stay that way.

Suddenly, those amazing lips were ripped away from his.

"This is a one-time thing, it has to be. I'm not going to be one of the guys on your list." Dean told him, averting his gaze.

It took a few seconds for the words and their meaning to sink in. "What list, what are you talking about?"

"The list of guys that you sleep with and use over and over again. I fell for you, and that's on me. I want this to happen because of that, but I can't let it be a regular thing. It would hurt me too much."

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You don't know me, or know anything about me, for you to make that big of a judgment call on me." Randy shouts, pushing himself up and staring at the man before him.

"You know why I can make that call?" Dean asked leaning up and getting right in Randy's face. Because you've been giving the impression that you're chasing me, acting like you want me, and then when I finally weaken enough to give you a chance, I find you making plans with Rhodes."

"That isn't fair, I wasn't making plans to fuck him. We've been friends forever, we were going a share a ride to the next venue." Randy told him jumping off the bed and off of the temptation laying there. This wasn't going in the direction that he thought, hoped, it would.

"That doesn't mean you haven't been fucking anybody who would let you. And don't pretend like you've never been with that guy, everyone knows you two have been fuck buddies for years."

"Okay, yes, we used to be but not for a long time now. And where do you get off yelling at me about fucking another guy when you know damn well you've been hooking up with Reeves for who knows how long." Randy was aware of his voice raising with every words until he was screaming, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. This wasn't what he should be doing, he shouldn't be yelling at this man, that wouldn't solve anything. He knew this, but he couldn't seem to control him anger right now.

He didn't take well to someone yelling at him, and he really didn't like someone accusing him of something he didn't do. He wouldn't show how much this actually hurt him, he had spent too many years putting on an air of invincibility, a shield that he didn't let anything penetrate and damage his emotions in anyway, for him to suddenly show any weaknesses and start backing down. The only emotions he planned to show was anger, just like he always did. He'd known his gruff exterior was going to come back to bite him someday, and today appeared to be that day.

"Ryan?! You thinking I'm sleeping with Ryan! Why the hell would you think that?"

What else am I supposed to think? You're always around him and he seems to be the only one who doesn't get a shitload of your anger whenever he comes near you! And I can't stand it okay?! I can't stand that he gets to be close to you and I can't." And maybe he could try sounding like more of a scared little girl.

"I'm not sleeping with him, I've never slept with him and I don't have any plan to start." Dean told him quietly. Randy watched him sink slowly onto the edge of the bed and he felt his own anger deflate just as quickly as it appeared Dean's did. He cautiously approached the bed before kneeling down and moving his hands to rest on the top of the sitting man's thighs.

Dean looked down at him with sadder eyes than Randy would have ever expected. "This isn't going to work Randy." A bucket of ice water couldn't have chilled Randy to the bone more than those few words did.

"What do you mean?" He was incredibly proud of the fact that his voice remained steady through that whole sentence.

"I want this, I really do, but there's no way we can make this work if we just start fucking each other right off the bat. I know it sounds as ridiculous as it gets, but I need more than that. I can't just be a fuck to you, I can't take that." The vulnerability he saw was almost overwhelming and it pulled out every protective instinct Randy had for the man. Looking up into those emotion filled eyes, it was easy to tell that he was barely holding himself together. He needed to do something to make this all go away, or at the very least better. But he knew that he needed to tread carefully, this wasn't the type of man who would be okay with being coddled.

"Yeah, maybe you're right, maybe we should get to know each other first." He didn't like that idea, but he knew it was probably the right one, even if his dick was screaming at him for being an idiot. It wasn't an easy thing to ignore either when his every fantasy was sitting in front of him saying he wanted Randy just as much.

"Yeah." Dean agreed and Randy felt his lips quirk. It sounded like Dean didn't like that idea any more than he did. That helped his current mood about the situation a little.

"Okay." He said standing up to move towards the head of the bed. "Well let's get to know each other." He threw himself down onto the mattress and moved to rest his back against the headboard. He forced himself to hold still while he watched Dean's eyes travel up and down his body before eventually settling on the spot beside him. When Dean finally began moving slowly up the bed to sit next to him, he let out a long breath he didn't even know he was holding. He tried his best to hide his smile when he realized just how nervous the man seemed to be. He moved his hand over the bedside table to reach the remote. "Let's watch a movie okay?"

Randy forced himself to hold his gaze steady when those worried eyes met his. If Dean was this unsure about everything, than Randy would make sure he never knew that Randy was just as worried.

"Yeah, okay. What movie?"

"I don't know yet let's see what's on." Randy told him, turning to start flipping through the channels. He forced himself to stare at the television and remain silent even when he saw Dean turn to stare at his profile. He was just going to wait this out and see what Dean did next.

* * *

"I don't do scared very well." Dean suddenly heard himself blurt out into the silence. He curled his hands into fists before digging the nails into his palms in an effort to hide his fidgeting. He knew Randy was trying to do something nice and not push him into anything but he was going slowly insane. He tried focusing on whatever movie was playing but it wasn't working. His eyes kept straying over to look at the older man sitting next to him. It was a much better view in his opinion anyway.

"You don't say." He watched as Randy slowly turned his head to lock eyes with him. His breath caught in his throat when those icy blue eyes met his. And heat flooded his cheeks when he saw the corner of those thin lips quirk up into an almost smile. He quickly turned his face back to the television in hopes of hiding his reaction.

"What I'm saying is that I can't handle being scared. I usually just take off and avoid the whole thing that bothered me in the first place until it's gone." Dean refused to look over and see what reaction the other man had to him pouring his heart out. Man, what he wouldn't give to go back and not make a complete fool of himself that way.

He jumped slightly when calloused fingers rested on his chin to turn his face until their eyes met. Dean wasn't sure what Randy was searching for, but he must have found it. Dean watched in almost slow motion as Randy moved in closer to him and he felt the harsh brush of that scruff rub against his own smooth skin just before their lips were pressed together. It wasn't really a kiss, just a light brush against one another, but it settled some of the worries rushing around in his mind, and that was better than anything else.

"I get it and don't worry. You can run all you want, I'll just have to chase you." And that statement, said with such conviction, settled all the rest of his worries.

* * *

_Sorry this took so long everyone, I just couldn't decide what I wanted to happen. There's still a small part of me that wishes they would have just hooked up, but I think this was the smarter way to go and I hope you all agree and are still interested._

_And I'm headed to Wrestlemania this week! (Sorry I had to geek out there for a moment) So it might be another bit of a stretch before I can post anything else, but I'm really hoping to get some writing done on the plane so this might turn out to be a good thing in the end._

_Hope you all enjoy!_


End file.
